World's End Dance Hall
by Ten-Faced
Summary: When everything's all confused, and there's nothing you can do, dancing's the only thing worth a try in these sad times. But when even that doesn't work, is dying better? Flavescent, Iris x Trip


Hi, Ten-Faced, finally putting up a second story in my Flavescent Campaign.

This time, the song this story is based on is World's End Dance Hall, as I'm sure you all know. Rated 'T' just in case.

I owe nothing, please enjoy, and vote on my poll.

* * *

She squirmed in her seat, an uncomfortable cold stool. He merely gazed at her with flat grey eyes (dead grey orbs that somehow held a resemblance of life when he looked at her) that made her feel… different. Not bad, but _good_, like she was in a separate world above everyone else.

A silent oasis in the desert of loud music and pulses, of moans and yells.

But was it really a good thing?

"Dance with me?" he held out his hand, palms up, a clear invitation even without the spoken words.

And she took it, needing escape from all those hateful and hurtful words that stung and dug far more than sticks and stones. Nursery rhymes were stupid.

They had met when they were kids, both on a journey, the only thing connecting them her travelling partner, his rival, the childish and immature trainer with the rare Pikachu.

Those times had long past.

Now, she was just another face, just another nobody in the sea of nobodies in one of the unimpressive towns in Unova. Her dreams of being the Dragon Master had long past, and she now went to college, where she was taunted and picked on daily, thanks to an old grudge.

He was just another trainer, some potential, but not enough. Any semblance of life had left him long ago, all child-like innocence killed and gone. Nearly a somebody, but mostly a nobody.

Two ignored and normal people, dancing the night away in a dance hall, not caring about anything.

Before, when she travelled with the raven-haired boy, the girl would have been too conscious of the green-haired man and the Pikachu-loving boy to be this close to him.

But now, in present time, here and now? She was glad that they were no longer close to them. Glad to be close instead to him, the dirty-blond man who never really said anything most of the time, just danced with her.

_Even if he had said anything, the time for the sarcastic, sharp comments of his childhood and her heated arguments are past._

So two people, a dark-skinned woman with deep, purple hair and an intelligent man with tired grey eyes waltzed through the crowd in the club, not caring about the fact that their dance was a random jerky movement where they held each other close, an anchor to each other. It stuck out like a sore thumb among the crowd.

She hadn't cared, but apparently, he had.

One day, instead of taking her hand like he had always done, he merely beckoned, and started to walk away.

_If she had let him go, if she hadn't followed, would she have seen him again?_

But she had followed, and it hadn't been a mistake. No regrets, nothing like that.

He had taken her to a tall building, the kind that had been cropping up faster and faster all over the world. Not a dancing place, but an office for some large company or something.

If people noticed two strangers running into the elevator and going on the roof, they sure didn't show it.

From then on, they would go to the roof of the building, blast music from an mp3 dock, or whatever it was, and dance in privacy.

She admitted it was a terrible dance, the grooves irregular, both stumbling and swooping, not quite in rhythm.

Still, it was something she didn't have to be herself, the lousy person that could do barely anything right in life. Here, she was powerful, carefree, happy….

Here, she was free. And _he_ was with her. The media couldn't hurt her, society couldn't hurt her, and mean words and gossip couldn't hurt her.

Here, she was untouchable, like an angel. Or perhaps a fallen one, as she wasn't exactly what you would call holy.

With a hop and a step, they whirled around, a mix of a polka and a waltz and tango and whatever else.

No borderlines left unpassed here, no steps unclimbed. She was at her final destination, the train of fate dropping her off after the seemingly long and now-pointless ride. It seemed that way, anyways.

_One step, two step, here we go…._

Sometimes, she came late, brown eyes puffy and swollen red. He didn't ask, just held her and rocked back and forth, back and forth, not saying anything. A slow dance with him would always heal her faster than anything else could.

Then, their fast dance would continue, as if nothing had happened, as if nothing could hurt them, or bother them.

She imagined them to be gliding through golden ballrooms, dressed in clothes from a fairy tale, while he knew that in reality, it was a completely terrible dance, both of them stumbling around, dressed in jeans and t-shirts. But as long as she was happy, this farce could go on, even if there was no meaning or reason behind anything. He didn't care, but he wanted her to be happy.

Occasionally, he would speak to her, a few brief words that carried a lot more meaning and emotions than anyone would have thought.

"Fate is cruel."

"Will you be with me?"

"Nice view, don't you agree?"

And, of course, the most important, "Shall we dance?"

She'd normally answer back, hushed, but they weren't here to talk; only to dance.

They'd swoop over the edge of the building, and she could never see the ground, always facing up and towards his face, her seeing his normally-lifeless eyes flash on concentrated determination to not drop her.

_As long as it was him, she wouldn't have minded if he dropped her or not._

And it turns out, she didn't. One night, while they were dancing, she only had on a tank top and shorts. The night had been uncomfortably cold as they began their ritual on their alter, and she had shivered and sneezed. She hated the cold.

Perhaps she should have dressed warmer, or taken up his offer of calling it a night.

_'No! It's only ten o'clock! Plenty of time left!'_

_'You sure?'_

_'Yup!'_ She had sounded so cheerful, so confident…. When in reality, she was neither. An empty, broken thing, her sick heart crying out in pain and sorrow.

So when he had dipped her back, into the free air, she had not been able to hold on firmly. Her fingers slipped, and alone, he couldn't hold her up.

Desperately, she clutched at the air, trying to grab him, get back up, make sure she didn't fall.

Well, the Fates really hated her. Mouth open in surprise, she fell headfirst off the tall building, a height she couldn't survive.

'_All the better to kill you, my dear!_' As if Little Red Riding Hood hadn't been twisted enough.

A yell broke her out of her strange supposed-to-be last thoughts.

She looked up into a smirking face, who grabbed her and pulled her towards him.

"I so told you." The old sarcastic tone was back in his voice. His grey eyes were sparkling; alive again. Ironic how it was finally like that as they hurled to their deaths.

"You jumped?" she felt a little dumb. Even at death's door, she was still child-like. Great.

"Duh." If he could have, he would have ran a casual hand through his hair. As it was, the circumstances they were in forbid him from doing that. It was all he could do to hold her near him, not let the shrieking, whipping winds tear her away from him.

"So….." She clutched at him as tight as she could. "Is this good-bye?"

"You sound rather happy about it."

"We're leaving the world dancing." She smiled, feeling the ground rush up to them quickly. He still wouldn't let her see the ground. "I'd have no other way to leave."

"Ah-"

_Iris jerked up, gasping. For a moment, all she could hear was the loud, irregular thumping of her heart, and fear-filled panting._

_Behind her, something stirred in the covers of the blanket. When she had sprung up, her companion had been met with a sudden draft of cold air. "What's wrong?" asked Trip, voice slurred with sleep but concerned._

_"Just a bad dream." She replied. "You know, the one where you don't manage to catch me that time when we were dancing, and we both fall." Her heart calmed down. Just a bad dream, nothing else. He had caught her, and they hadn't died. Just a bad dream._

_He snorted lightly, and shifted. "Like I'd ever let you fall." But his hand grabbed hers, and squeezed reassuringly. "Go back to sleep. No more nightmares, alright?"_

_Iris smiled lightly. "No more." She agreed._

* * *

Thank you for reading. For those of you confused, she was dancing, and she did nearly fall, but Trip caught her. Falling was just a nightmare that she dreamt years later, when they got happier.

Please vote on my poll, and review. I'm begging you.

**~Ten-Faced~**


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